


An Ending

by orphan_account



Series: Soldier, Poet, King [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Bad use of morse code, Discussions of the Afterlife, Ficlet, Gen, Medical Inaccuracies, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter is lowkey a scared kid, Temporary Character Death, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Uncle Ben is sad and loves Peter a lot, repost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 21:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21326746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Peter is forced to make an impossible choice. (He hopes he made the right one).originally written for day six of Whumptober: Dragged away.
Relationships: Ben Parker & Peter Parker, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Series: Soldier, Poet, King [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537474
Comments: 3
Kudos: 81





	An Ending

**Author's Note:**

> Hello All!   
Thank you so much for stopping by this story, if you didn't follow me over the course of whumptober, here's the rundown: I'm re-editing and reposting my favorite fics that I wrote in October, mostly for fun/editing practice/reaching a wider audience. I hope you enjoy this fic, because it's one of my favorites. 
> 
> You're always welcome to come scream with me on tumblr: spiclergwen

He was standing right  _ there,  _ Peter could see him. He found himself smiling, completely ignoring his surroundings and the throbbing pain in his chest as he approached him. His smile was as bright as always, he was wearing a crisp and clean white shirt, that was tucked into his regular blue jeans. Peter loved how plain he had always been.

He reached his arms out towards Peter, and he started towards him, but distantly, he heard some unknown voice in the back of his mind whisper  _ no, don’t go to him. _

But how couldn’t he? He was standing right there, for the first time in years, he was  _ there _ , arms stretched out, ready to welcome Peter home. He had the same friendly smile and bright eyes, the same cheerful, loving nature that Peter associated with him. 

He was still his Uncle Ben. 

Even as he stared at him, Peter felt himself start to tear up as he looked at his uncle, a small sob bubbling up into his throat. All other thoughts drifted away. Vaguely Peter realized that alleyway he was standing on top of was slowly transforming into the hallway in his apartment, but he was too overjoyed to notice anything, to hyper-focused on the man in front of him to notice the change of scenery. 

“Am I sleeping?” He walked towards Ben, who was still holding his arms outstretched, Peter was just a couple of feet away from him, now. He urged his feet to pick up speed. 

The smile fell away from his Uncle’s eyes as he shook his head, slowly. Peter walked closer to his uncle, he was almost close enough to touch him now, the realization dawning on him as he gazed at his uncle through a sunshine-like filter. 

“Am I dead?” This time, Uncle Ben merely shrugged, and Peter could see tears on the other man’s face. Except for the shrug, he left Peter’s question unanswered. He tilted his head with the type of interest he had used when he picked Peter up from school, the older man swiping at his eyes as he looked at his nephew, as though he would never see him again. 

“I’m so proud of you, Peter.” Peter started to cry openly at that. His chest still hurts, and he found that despite his sobs, he was completely unable to breathe deep enough to fill his lungs with air. He choked on his tears as he approached his uncle, the pain in his chest slowly dimming from a sharp pain to a dull ache. 

He couldn’t quite reach out to touch his uncle, but he desperately wanted too, yearning to be held by him again. He was just a foot away, but he couldn’t seem to get any closer. He reached out, but it was like he was hitting an invisible wall, sparkling between them. 

His uncle gave him another sad smile as he tried to reach for his nephew, but it was no use, his tanned hands hitting the same invisible wall. There was a weird film between them, something murky and golden like the sun that kept them apart. They stood facing each other, arms outstretched, as though they could will the film away. 

Ben quickly whipped the tears from his eyes again as Peter clutched his chest, feeling the phantom of the pain he had felt earlier. Peter looked at him again, a desire settling into his stomach, wedging itself into the mysterious pain and making it’s home there. He began to cry harder. 

He felt conflicted but he couldn’t place why. It was like his body and his mind were in two different places, and his body wanted him to stay put, to spend just a few more moments (or maybe even longer with Ben). But his mind was pushing him like it was trying to pull him away. The pain in his chest grew duller, settling into almost nothing. His chest was tight and felt wet, as though somebody had poured a bucket of water over him. 

He tried to reach for his uncle again and was shocked when the film gently rolled like ocean waves between them-- it was getting weaker. 

Peter looked back at his Uncle Ben, who looked as confused as Peter felt. His face was still graced with the same sad smile as he whispered to Peter.

“I hope you know what happened isn’t your fault.” Peter opened his mouth to protest, an “I should have done better” at the ready, but all too suddenly, Ben’s demeanor changed. His back straightened, and he looked at Peter with an expression he had never seen before, it was filled with longing and desperation but also fear, and Peter almost didn’t hear his uncle’s warning, uncharacteristically formal, “but more importantly: I want you to know that you have a choice coming up, a big one, and I need you to know that whatever consequences arise from your choice are not your fault.” Peter nodded numbly, unsure of what to say. 

Everything felt like it was fading away and becoming more clear all at the same time. The pain in his chest moved from a dull ache to non-existent in a handful of moments, and he found that the wasn’t even all that considered with the pressure that was sitting on top of his chest. On the contrary, he felt lighter than he had in years. 

On the other hand, everything else was becoming more clear: he could make out the bulging of his uncle’s front pockets (housing his wallet and key), he could clearly see the pictures that lined the hallways of his old family home, could pick out each of the Christmases, and Birthdays, and Halloweens they depicted. If he listened closely, it sounded like he could hear a Mets game in the background. 

He tried to reach out towards his uncle again and found that he was able to force his hand through the film, it was like his hand came unattached from his body as it floated through, but felt almost nothing. His uncle grabbed his wrist as though he was going to pull him through, but he made no further moves, just held Peter’s wrists tightly in his hands. He looked older than Peter had ever seen him, his eyes filled with an emotion so potent Peter couldn’t place it. 

“I didn’t think this would happen so soon.” His uncle sighed, the same oddly formal voice seeping into his tone, Peter must’ve looked confused because his uncle continued speaking: “I thought… I thought you had a few more years, at least.” Peter shrugged as he looked at this uncle, not trusting himself to speak. Ben looked more broken than Peter had ever seen him. 

“You look so tired, Peter.” Peter felt himself fighting back tears again, threatening to spill onto his cheeks. He was still in a little pain, but it was quiet, and if he focused elsewhere, he couldn’t feel it at all. He couldn’t really feel anything. His brain was still telling him to run, but even that had quieted down. It was peaceful. Quiet. Calm. A type of relaxed Peter hadn’t felt since the bite. The serenity was interrupted, as Peter heard somebody yelling in the background. He could make out his name, but not anything else. 

“I am.” He said finally, swallowing loudly, “I’m really tired.” His uncle sighed at looked past Peter, as though he was seeing something different, something new. He looked at Peter’s face, again, and he pulled him through the film a little more, clasping his other hand with his own. He left both of Peter’s feet planted firmly on the other side. Peter was bent halfway into the film, the area up above his belly full with the same detached feeling. Ben used his free hand to wipe at Peter’s tears, but he felt nothing. As though the wind had wiped them away instead of his uncle. 

“Peter,” his uncle spoke again, “Do you want to rest?” The implication was clear, and Peter could barely think as he nodded. He reached his other hand towards Peter, and he grasped it, with the help of his uncle, he pushed himself through the film. He had just set his right foot down when he heard the same voice echoed around him. 

_ “Pete, please, please.”  _ The disembodied voice seemed to come from both nowhere and everywhere. It sounded hysterical in its pleas. The pain present in the mysterious voice enough to stop Peter with his left foot raised, frozen in place. The voice continued, near hysterical. 

_ “Kiddo, I promise you, it’s going to be okay, please, please, stay here.”  _ Memories of lab days and movie nights came rushing back to him. Peter started to lower his left foot behind him. 

_ “Underoos, I can’t do this without you, bud. You gotta come back to us, please kid.”  _ Peter finally, truly recognized the voice: Tony Stark. But it felt uncharacteristic, he had never heard him plead like this like his life depended on it. For a moment, he wondered where it was coming from. He looked at uncle, and the reality feeling more apparent than it had before. 

The next voice he heard didn’t belong to Tony Stark, but it made his blood run cold.

_ “Do you think we should call it?”  _ Somehow, he knew exactly what it meant.

_ “No, not yet -- please, I know he’ll come back.” _ Then quietly, to Peter:  _ “I won’t give up on you, kid. I’ll drag you back if I have too.” _ Finally, Peter looked at his Uncle Ben.

“If I step through to you-- I won’t come back, will I?” He knew what he really meant, but couldn't say it yet, even when he knew it to be true... He couldn’t say that he was dead. 

Uncle Ben nodded. 

“But Peter, I trust you. Do whatever you need to do.” Peter felt himself start sobbing despite himself. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know, I’m not ready to make this decision, I’m only fifteen, Ben. I don’t know what to do! How can I be ready to decide if I--” He choked, the next words an almost silent whisper, a confession Peter hadn’t even made to himself, “I wasn’t ready for any of this.” He looked up at his uncle, who looked close to tears again. 

“You didn’t feel ready, and you shouldn’t have had to be, but you were: you are so special, Pete. You are so smart, and compassionate, not to mention  _ brave _ . You could change the world,” he was quiet for a moment, “you already have.” Peter lowered his head, stuck in the limbo of his own decision.

“Peter, if you choose to come to tot me right now, that’s it. It’s done. You deserve to rest if that’s what you really want.” Keeping one foot on the other side, Peter reached out to hug his uncle as best he could.

“You deserve everything you’ve ever wanted, kid. If you’re done that’s okay but… Peter, I will not be hurt if you’re not done. If you go back there right now, it will not be easy. But you have a lot of amazing people in your corner, you would be fine.” He looked at his uncle. 

“How long have I been here?” Peter felt his science brain going-- if he went back now: would he be able to Spider-Man? Would he be able to breathe, eat, sleep normally? Uncle Ben laughed, as though he could hear Peter’s thoughts.

“Not very long, if you go back-- you will be the same, no need to worry.” Uncle Ben choked on the next sentence, “everything will be okay.” Peter heard Tony again, begging him to come back. He leaned into his uncle’s embrace for a moment before pulling away and looking his uncle deep in the eyes. 

He turned his head back towards where he had come, and saw a light at the end, flimsy and flickering, a stark reminder that he didn’t have much time left. 

“I’m sorry.” He told his uncle as he pulled his right foot back through the film and set it down on the other side.

“Thank you, I love you, I’m sorry.” His uncle just nodded his understanding. Peter pulled the head out of the film so that just his arms were left. 

“I have to do this.” He pulled his left arm out. He took a deep sigh as looking at his uncle, realizing it would be the last time he got too, at least for a while. 

“I’m not ready to go, but-- but I have too.” he squeezed Uncle Ben’s hand, and he heard the man whisper through his tears. 

“You did good, kid.” Peter nodded, tears streaming down his face. His uncle let go of his hand, and Peter choked through another sob as another “Thank you. I love you. I’m sorry.” ripped through his throat, like a mantra. Uncle Ben merely smiled, mouthing an “I love you.” back to him. 

He pulled his final hand through the film, and it slowly disappeared, and he watched as Uncle Ben faded away, slowly, as though he was moving backward. 

For a moment it was silent, and then Peter turned towards the light. He started walking, he couldn’t hear his uncle or Mr. Stark. The only thing he could hear was the pounding of his sneakers against the dark floor, a tightness seeping into his chest as he thought about his uncle, about his future. 

When he reached the light, he stepped through it, hoping for a soft, gentle re-entry to the world. Instead, the pain flooded his chest like a white-hot knife, cutting through him as he struggled to breathe, gasping as he took in lungfuls of air. 

. . . 

His heart rate had been flatlined for about two minutes. Happy was already driving the kid’s aunt upstate, ready to deliver the news, but Tony was painfully aware that it was only him that was with Peter when he--

**No** , he couldn’t say it yet. 

Peter wasn’t dead. He couldn’t be. 

He felt himself begin to cry again.  _ He lost the kid. _ One of the most important things in his life: his intern, his movie night buddy, the heir to his company, the future of the avengers. His son. Dead. Dr. Cho entered the room again and then looked at Tony. As gently as she could, she reminded him, a light pleading to her tone. 

“Tony, please let me call it.” He was about to shake his head no, but something stopped him, told him that it was time to let go, time to stop prolonging the suffering, let him go. He looked up at her and realized that she had tears bubbling in her eyes as well. 

“Okay.” the single word was short and flat, but it fell heavy like a ton of bricks between them. They lapsed into silence for only a moment. the sound of flat-lining stopped, and Tony jerked his head up and the heart rate changed, and suddenly replaced with the slow, erratic sound of Peter’s heartbeat. Cho and Tony looked at each other, and then looked at Peter, just in time to see him take in a deep breath of oxygen, and then another, and another, gasping for air like a newborn, despite his deep injuries. 

Tony grasped the kid’s hand. A bubble of hope, and love, and joy filling his chest as he gazed at Peter, desperate to watch him breathe, and blink, and exist.

“Peter, if you can hear me, squeeze my palm.” His voice was thick with emotion, and he was shaking, but the feeling of Peter squeezing his hand softly was unforgettable. Dr. Cho looked at Tony in shock.

“I’ll go prep the OR, so we can finish up.” She motioned to him as nurse bustled in, securing an oxygen mask to Peter’s face. Tony nodded, unable to focus on anything but  _ Peter.  _ and suddenly he felt the kid squeezed his hand, he squeezed a quick pattern, something Tony immediately recognized as morse code. 

** _T-H-A-N-K-S_ **

Tony wiped at his eyes and squeezed Peter’s hand again, unable to form the feeling in his chest into words, instead settling for his own pattern.

** _I-L-O-V-E-Y-O-U_ **

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! If you're interested, please leave a comment or kudo, they mean lots to me! I post a one-shot every Tuesday, and I'm starting my HYDRA au next week, so look out for that! 
> 
> tumblr: spiclergwen


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